


Pieces of Broken Memories

by Ace Gambler (Ace_Gambler)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Damian is having nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Jason didn't realize he was protective, Post Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:32:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_Gambler/pseuds/Ace%20Gambler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian pays an unexpected nighttime visit to Jason, the only person who understands the broken memories that haunt you from your own grave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pieces of Broken Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Short spiel because I like Jason and Damian being brothers, especially if there's dead robin bonding.  
> The title is from This is Gospel by Panic! at the Disco.

After a long night the Red Hood returned to the empty brick building that was serving as his current safe house with sleep in the forefront of his mind. He climbed through the window into the room he occupied and tossed his worn red helmet aside before he collapsed onto the mattress, wincing as his bruised ribs made contact. At three twenty in the morning there was nothing that could keep Jason from passing out in exhaustion.

 

It was four forty when Jason was jolted awake by the finger that cautiously poked him in the side. Bolting upright it took him half a second to snatch the gun he kept under his pillow. He was prepared to shoot whatever psycho managed to follow him back, but as his eyes adjusted to the dark room the only thing Jason caught sight of was Damian Wayne.

"Kid, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" he groaned, replacing his gun under the pillow once again. Sure, the brat could be prickly but Jason trusted him enough to know he wasn't about to attack him right after waking him. If Damian were to kill him Jason was confident the boy was fond enough of him to have done it while he was still asleep.

Running through the list of possibilities, the most plausible one Jason's sleep addled mind could produce was that the brat had been sent by his father, yet Jason knew Bruce wasn't keen to allow him unsupervised interaction with his youngest son in fear he'd corrupt his perfect soldier. No, Damian had to be here for some sort of personal quest because it was definitely far too fucking early for a social call. He had to admit, he found it kinda concerning that the kid had not only managed to locate the hideout on his own but also get inside without alerting him, his security definitely needed upgrading if an eleven year old could break in. But when Jason got a better look at the boy through the moonlight streaming in from the dirty window, he was suddenly far less concerned with how Damian got in and far more concerned about the expression on his face.

Damian wasn't a typical kid, Jason knew that well enough these days, but in that moment it struck him he looked far more vulnerable and child-like than Jason had ever seen the brat. Nobody would ever guess the eleven year old could slit a man's throat after taking a look at him in this state. Clutching the hem of his rumpled tunic, Damian's eyes were just a bit too wide, his usual olive skin a bit too pale. The kid looked like he'd seen a ghost. Jason opened his mouth to comment when it suddenly made sense; Damian had awoken in the middle of the night because he _was_ the ghost.

The boy had torn through the night in a frenzy, rode all the way across Gotham and broken into the safe house because there was no where else to go, no one else who understood six feet of dirt wasn't all that weighed down on you after your your death certificate is signed.

A second of studying the ghost of a boy in front of him and Jason somehow ended up with his arms around Damian in some version of a hug, squeezing him tightly. "You're here, you're alive," Jason promised, clutching the boy, "They won't come back for you, she won't come back. You're safe."

Damian let Jason pull him into his lap and hold him reassuringly, the boy's face buried in his t-shirt. He could feel the spot where Damian's face was pressed to his shoulder grow damp as he trembled, but the boy didn't make a sound.

"I wish I could tell you the nightmares stop, but there's always some night where they'll be back." He said quietly,"It's something you have to live with, but what matters is that you _will_ live, that you're alive." A hesitant hand found Damian's back, rubbing it soothingly. He didn't speak as the boy silently wept, just held him as the minutes passed by. The kid had every right to cry and the fact he had to completely fall apart to let himself shed a tear made Jason's heart ache for him.

Jason stared at the wall over the kid's shoulder, "She isn't comin' back," he muttered darkly. "We won't let her get you ever again." Damian was silent in response and Jason looked down to find the boy had cried himself to sleep. He laid the kid down gently, brushing damp hair from his forehead, whispering into the pale night, "I've got you, baby bat. Even if Dick isn't here and your dad doesn't have enough heart left to understand, I've always got your back. I promise."

  
Damian slept peacefully that night.


End file.
